


The Eye of the Beholder

by mosylu



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, some descriptions of burn injuries, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 04:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12740751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: After one of Jyn's missions with the Pathfinders goes bad, she's a little self-conscious about the effects of her injuries. She should know Cassian couldn't care less, as long as she's in one piece.





	The Eye of the Beholder

**Author's Note:**

> Today's NaNo story is for a prompt on Tumblr, "I think you're beautiful."

When he walked off the ship, Kay clanking along behind him, it was Bodhi that hovered at the bottom of the ramp. Cassian said, “Where’s Jyn?”

“First of all, don’t freak out,” Bodhi said. “She’s going to be okay.”

Everyone knows that’s the worst thing you can say to a man just coming back in after being gone for five weeks, about a woman who got sent on regular missions with the Pathfinders. Cassian went stock still. “What. Happened.”

Bodhi squeaked, “There was a mission, and it went a little bad, and she’s in the med bay.”

Cassian bolted, Bodhi’s mournful voice dopplering after him, “I said don’t freak out!”

It took him only a few minutes, far too long, to pelt from the shuttle bay to the med bay. People either knew the story or they saw his face, and pressed to the sides of the corridor to let him hurtle through.

“Jyn Erso,” he gasped to the first med-droid he saw.

“Patient Erso is accepting visitors - ”

“Tell me where!”

“ - please identify yourself for our records.”

He slapped his palm on the reader and growled, “Captain Cassian Andor of Intelligence.”

“Thank you Captain Andor,” it trilled, sublimely unconcerned with his glower. “You may proceed to ward three, bed two.”

He proceeded, barely paused when he saw the privacy curtain, and ripped it back.

“Oy!” Jyn yelped, yanking her shift up her shoulder, and then saw who it was. “Cassian! You’re back!”

He stood frozen at the sight of her.

He hadn’t known what “a little bit bad” meant - blaster wounds? Broken bones? Concussion? All were possible, even probable.

But she’d been in a fire. 

Within the past few days, too. Her skin was patchy pink, darker in some places, lighter in others and all of it shiny as if she’d been greased - possibly with the contents of the open container sitting on her lap. Her eyebrows had been frizzled off, giving her a weirdly surprised expression, and her hair stuck out in irregular scorched patches all over her head. It looked greasy too, coated with the same stuff as her face.

Some bits of hair were as long as a few inches, some were nearly stubble where patches of pinkened scalp showed through. Somehow, about half of her bangs had escaped and stubbornly fell in her eyes. She wore a loose cotton shift, medbay issue, and the skin that showed under it was streaked lurid shiny pink.

Her smile faltered, and she touched the bit of her bangs that had escaped, smoothing it back as if that one chunk of hair would hide the rest of her fire-ravaged head.

“So,” she said with forced cheer. “Uh. I went on a mission. Didn’t turn out the best.”

He let himself sink into the chair by her bedside. “Yes, I - I heard. What happened?”

“Simple retrieval mission,” she told him, twisting the lid back onto the pot and reaching out to put it on her bedside table. “On Kandar VII.”

She winced as the motion pulled at some tender area. Without comment, he took it from her and set it down, eyes flickering over the label. It seemed to be some kind of moisturizing lotion with topical analgesic.

She nodded her thanks. “We were almost out,” she continued, “then we got rumbled, and they brought out the firebombs.  I caught the edge of one. Ruined my vest and my pants.” She scowled. “And my scarf. It caught.”

He cringed.

“It was fine! Fine. I managed to rip it off before my hair really caught fire. Most of it just - scorched off. The smell was amazing, I can tell you that.”

He’d smelled burning hair before. He’d smelled burning flesh before. He said quietly, “Was anyone else - ”

She looked away. “I was lucky,” she said. “Just got a little toasted. Others weren’t. Lot of skin grafts, bacta treatments, a few, um, a few cybernetic prosthetics. And that’s the ones we pulled out.”

It turned his stomach. He told himself he could get mission specifics later. “But you - how is it?”

“Mostly first-degree burns,” she assured him. “And a few spots that were a little worse - just a little! My fingers from when I was yanking off my scarf - ” She held out her right hand, lightly wrapped in gauze. “And a few patches on my back. Some blistering. I have to sleep on my stomach. That’s fun.”

He looked her over. “Is there anywhere that didn’t get burnt?”

“My legs mostly escaped. And - ” She held up her left hand. “This one’s okay.”

“Your throat? Your lungs?”

“Feel pretty raw from smoke, but that’ll heal up. I’m mostly done coughing all the shit out. Others have it a lot worse. Honestly, it’s mostly cosmetic. And I don’t care about that.”

“No,” he said. “Of course not.”

She looked down at her wrapped-up hand, and her bangs fell in her eyes again. She swiped them away. “Can’t even it up,” she said, waving at her head. “Not until my scalp heals a bit. Feels like a bad sunburn, if you want to know the truth.”

“Are they giving you anything?”

She shrugged and winced as it pulled at some tender patch of skin. “It’s too mild to waste bacta on it. That stuff - “ She pointed at the pot of lotion. “They say I can slap it on whenever it starts - whenever I want. But they’ve got limited supplies with all the others in here. I’ll be fine healing up on my own.”

“How long do they think?”

“A week or so for the worst of it.”

“It’ll probably peel,” he pointed out.

“Oh, yeah, that’ll be disgusting.” She laughed a little, and he tried to smile. She saw the attempt and her smile faltered. She sighed. “I know I look pretty horrible.”

“You don’t look that bad. And you’re here.” It gave him the shakes, how easy she could have been one of those skin grafts, bacta treatments, prosthetics patients. Or worse - one of the ones they couldn’t pull out. “You’re here and you’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I am.” She tried to sound cheerful and failed.

He picked up the container of lotion. “Can I put this on your back anywhere? Any place you can’t reach?”

“That’d be good. I usually have to wait for a nurse or a droid to come around.” She shifted carefully, turning her back to him, and reached up to untie the strings at the nape of her neck. 

His teeth clenched at the sight of her back, which was as mottled as her face. One light gauze bandage decorated her left shoulder blade and another sat just to the right of her spine, low on her back

He focused on opening the container. The lotion was cool and slightly numbing on his fingers. “Any place I have to avoid?”

“The bandaged bits,” she said.

As lightly as he could, he swiped generous amounts over her skin. He could see it take effect in the tension seeping out of her back. “That’s good,” she said finally, some minutes later. “Let that soak in.”

He tied her shift for her again and she twisted back around. “Thanks,” she said, avoiding his eyes.

He said, “Jyn, I -”

“Gave you a shock, didn’t I?” she asked. “When you barged in.”

“I didn’t know what had happened. Bodhi didn’t tell me much.” He reached out for the one hand that had escaped a scorching. “I was surprised. Yes.”

“S'funny,” she mumbled, tucking her bangs behind her ears and wincing as her fingers brushed a patch on her scalp that was more red than pink. “Didn’t think I was vain ‘til I lost anything I had to be vain about.”

He squeezed her hand, very, very lightly. “I think you’re beautiful.”

She looked at him, frizzled eyebrows, patchy hair, mottled greasy skin, and all, and she smiled.

FINIS


End file.
